


Coffee is Better than Tea (But You're Okay, I Guess)

by katherine_tag



Category: Hawkeye (Comics)
Genre: Clint Barton & Kate Bishop Friendship, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Gen, Human Disaster Clint Barton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-21 20:18:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17049881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katherine_tag/pseuds/katherine_tag
Summary: Clint is a mess. Is anyone surprised?A little coda to "The Tape" in Hawkeye numbers 4 & 5, collected in "My Life As a Weapon"





	Coffee is Better than Tea (But You're Okay, I Guess)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ppyajunebug](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ppyajunebug/gifts).



Clint rose up out of sleep like swimming upward through molasses. He turned his head to the side and cracked one eye open, immediately regretting it as a stray sunbeam lasered its way through the curtains and straight into his retina. He shut his eye and grunted. 

Sitting up was just as painful; his bruised muscles had stiffened overnight and his cracked ribs felt like knives. "Ow," he said, and again, louder, "OW."

Kate poked her head through the bedroom door. "Hey, dummy," she said. 

"Kate?" Clint mumbled. "What're you doin' here?"

"Well," Kate said, coming fully into the room and handing him a steaming mug. "Someone had to make sure you didn't die in your sleep last night."

Clint grabbed the mug.  _ Coffee coffee coffee coffee coff-BLECH. _ He looked down, betrayed. "What the hell is this?"   
  


"Tea," Kate said.

"But why?" He pushed the mug back up at her, wincing as the movement strained his ribcage.

Kate put her hands behind her back. "It's good for you," she said. "Now, drink up."

"Aw," Clint mumbled, but he obediently sipped the steaming beverage. Nope, just as gross the second time.  _ YECH. _ He put it on the nightstand, nudging another dirty mug out of the way and hoped Kate wouldn't notice.

"Seriously," Kate said.

Clint looked up. Her face looked weird, eyebrows caterpillaring together, nostrils flared, lips a thin line. Her chin trembled and  _ shit.  _ "Hey, Katie, I'm okay, really," he said. "No big deal." He tried to swing his legs over the side of the bed and winced. 

"You bruised your  **liver** ," she said, and now her face just looked really grouchy, almost like usual.

Clint gave himself a mental fistbump.  _ Score one for Hawkguy! _ "Yeah, but I don't really need it," he said. He experimentally touched the ball of his left foot to the floor and winced again. "Ow," he said. No shoe. Broken glass. Right.

Kate sighed. "Drink your tea," she said. "I'll bring you some soup and you can take your pills." She disappeared out the door before he could respond.

"But I gotta pee," Clint muttered to himself, and stood up shakily, balancing on his right leg. He hopped to the bedroom door without incident and stopped just outside, gearing himself up for the longer hop down the hallway to the bathroom. 

"Need any help?" Kate asked, her arms crossed.

"Nope," Clint said, and steadied himself on the doorframe. 

"Uh huh," Kate said, but she didn't say anything else as she came over and put an arm around his waist, taking some of his weight as he limped down the hallway.

Clint was grateful to escape her barbed tongue, not that he'd ever tell her that. He felt irritable about it, too. She didn't have to baby him just because he fell out of a window and got shot in the chest and stuff. He could take it. He'd had worse.

They reached the bathroom before he could open his big mouth. He shut the door in her face and sighed, leaning his hands on the counter and swaying slightly as he remembered he couldn't put any weight on his left foot. The face that stared back at him from the mirror was looking a little haggard. His hair was sticking up on one side and smashed flat on the other, a few unruly tufts poking through the bandage still wound around his head. He picked at the medical tape until he could unwind the bandage, leaving it pooled on the counter for later.

He felt around on the back of his head, gently prodding the goose egg with his fingertips. It was hot to the touch, and throbbed a little, but it didn't feel like it had bled much overnight. He peeled the bandaid off his face and rubbed his bristley chin. A shave could wait, he decided. He was an invalid. He couldn't be expected to conform to societal expectations right now.

Or ever.

He finished his business and washed his hands. Kate was still standing right outside the door when he opened it, which was unexpected. Clint yelped and jerked back, whacking his elbow on the sink as he sat down hard on the tiled floor.

Kate's face was a comical 'O' of surprise. Her eyebrows looked like they couldn't decide what to do, raising up to her hairline and then crawling back down into a frown. "Jeez, Clint," she said. "You're a mess."

Lucky chose that moment to shove his way past Kate and into the bathroom, snuffling all over Clint's face and trying to climb into his lap, tail wagging furiously.

"Hey, buddy," Clint said, hugging the dog. "I missed you too." He turned his face to the side and Lucky licked him, leaving a wet, slightly stinky stripe from his neck to his temple.

Kate had gotten her eyebrows under control while Lucky was drooling all over him. "Come on, Lucky," she said. "Leave the poor guy alone; he's already gone through a lot."

Clint used Lucky as leverage as he hoisted himself off the floor. "Good boy," he said, giving the dog one more pat. He accepted Kate's help again, and they made their slow but steady way back to the bedroom, where he fell gratefully into bed. And then winced, yet  **again** , because falling into bed was a great way to remind yourself you had at least two cracked ribs. 

"Now you smell like hospital  **and** dog," Kate said. Her nose was wrinkled up in a cute-for-a-little-sister sort of way.

Rolling his head to one side, Clint sniffed under his arm experimentally, then shrugged. "It's been worse."   
  
"You have terrible standards," Kate said. 

"I'm just part of the unwashed masses," he said. His stomach punctuated the joke with a loud grumble.

Kate looked like she was trying not to smile. "I'll get you some soup," she said. Had he mentioned lately how awesome she was?

Clint scooted up in bed, stuffing a flat pillow behind his back and trying (and failing) to straighten out the twisted blankets. He finally just kicked them down toward the end of the bed. Lucky jumped up and immediately turned three circles on top of the pile, settling down with a doggy groan. Clint shoved his cold toes under his dog and tried not to feel so goddamn grateful.

The plastic container of soup was almost too hot to hold, and Clint blew on the top before taking a sip. "Mrs. Chen's wonton soup?" he guessed.

"I can't cook," Kate said, shrugging. "She says 'hi'." She handed him a spoon.

He spooned out a wonton and slurped it up. Lucky was pretending to sleep, but Clint could see he had one eye open and the very tip of his tail was wiggling. 

Kate watched with her arms crossed as he fished a piece of carrot out of the container and handed it to Lucky, who nipped it out of his hand in a flash, tail thumping on the sheets.

"Carrots are good for dogs," Clint said.

"Drink your tea," Kate said, turning abruptly and walking out of the bedroom. 

"Coffee is better," Clint yelled through the doorway. He could hear her banging around in the kitchen but she didn't answer him.

He ate about half the soup before he could hardly keep his eyes open. Kate appeared just as he was nodding off and snatched the tipping container out of his hands, trading it for the mug of now cold tea. She shoved two white pills into his palm.

"Take your pills," she commanded.

"Aw," Clint said. He stared at the pills rolling around in his hand. "But tea." He looked imploringly at Kate.

"Coffee is for people who don't have broken ribs and a mild concussion," Kate said.

"They're just cracked," Clint muttered rebelliously, but he dutifully swallowed the pills with a bitter mouthful of tea. He stuck out his tongue at her. "Satisfied, Nurse Ratched?"

"For now," Kate said ominously. She yanked the sheets and blankets out from under the dog and threw them over Clint's legs. 

Clint yawned, sliding back down until his head was on the bunched up pillow, Lucky resettling to drape his head over Clint's knees. His eyes shut, almost of their own accord.

He felt Kate's cool fingers on his forehead as she brushed his hair back. "Get some sleep, Clint," she whispered. 

She was almost out the door before he said, "Hey, Kate. Thanks. You're better than tea. You're coffee."

Her laugh was almost silent, but he could hear it in her voice. "Thanks. You're okay too, I guess."

He was asleep again before he could think of a proper response.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy yuletide! I hope you like it! :)
> 
> Many thanks to knitwritezombie for a quick beta.


End file.
